Margaret Down the Rabbit Hole
by fightXtheXdawn
Summary: Alice has gone missing! It is up to level-headed, boring Margaret to adventure forth and rescue her sister from something far more sinister than a Queen of Hearts- Wonderland itself it deteriorating at the hands of an unknown darkness known only as Void.
1. Chapter 1

Don't be angry with me (also known as disclaimer): this story is flotsam and jetsam of ideas from ALL Alice's that I've studied/seen. This means that the sister from the books is the main character, given the name Margaret cause it suited her (thank you Tim Burton), and that it is dark and twisted and not all flowery- also a tribute to Tim Burton as well as the new Alice: Madness Returns game. Please, forgive this creative license and just try to enjoy. Reviews are welcome as always.

Further Introduction of sorts and the like (a note from the author, to be frank): Why, hello and thanks for checking out my story. I'm sure you will realize right away that it's not entire Tim Burton, more of a combination of all the Alice I've gathered over the past year- and that's a lot. So, instead of fudging about with minor details (such as the fact Margaret was married to a scoundrel in TB's version) please do read critically and as story-lovers. It is, after all, what I felt the Alice stories were originally about- imagination and stories.

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><p>Chapter 1: Where's Alice?<p>

Margaret stared out into the rain in a bored fashion, her eyes following the vanishing coattails of the gentleman who'd just come calling for her sister, who was absent as usual. Margaret had entertained him for a few brief moments as he waited, hoping the girl would show up eventually. After a pause, he'd grown bored and left Margaret to her embroidery.

Most of what Margaret did was boring. She read, she embroidered, she smiled politely at suitors jokes. Yes, Margaret was a proper young lady, with proper length dresses, properly pulled back hair, and proper posture and manners. Just now, as she sat (straight backed, chin up) with her sewing neglected in her lap (a design of flowers for a cushion) she wondered what her younger sister Alice was up to.

Alice was their mother's wild child. Often left to her own devices, her hair was nearly always found unkempt in wild blond curls around her face and flopping into her shining blue eyes, her cheeks flushed from running, and her pinafore filthy from kneeling (kneeling _willingly_!) in the dirt. Still, the girl was loved for her untamed nature and so she was allowed to be untamed with a wild imagination (following rabbits down holes- really!). Margaret however, with her plain complexion, brown hair, and shrewd dark eyes, was not given this luxury. Perhaps if she'd seized it in her youth… but she was twenty-two now. It did not do to dwell on such things.

Twenty-two. Practically a spinster.

"Margaret, have you seen Alice?" Her mother said, appearing in the doorway. Margaret turned with a frown and a shake of her head. She watched sadly as her mother's shoulders slumped with worry. "It's almost dinnertime. If there's one thing we can rely on her for is to be present for dinner. Wonder where that girls gotten off to- surely not outside in this rain!"

"Let us hope not, Mama. I'm afraid I haven't the slightest clue where she is. I'll go check upstairs in the old nursery." Anything to stop with the stitching already! She placed it delicately on the table beside her chair and stood, sweeping her dress professionally to remove any unseemly wrinkle in the fabric. She then passed her mother and up the stairs to check for her younger sister.

She hadn't said it but she, too, was worried for Alice. Although they'd never been as close as sisters ought to be, something felt wrong. Like it usually did right before Alice appeared with one of her wild fabricated tales of tea parties that never ended and queens that demanded heads rolled (violent, vulgar thought for a young girl!). This felt different though. Sure, it had the usual, almost forgotten feel to it, that maybe Alice wasn't all there, wasn't all real. Only this felt much, much worse. It was like a stitch in the chest that wouldn't leave. It was like something hazy on the edge of her vision, a bump on her brain. Nerve-wracking!

Still, Alice's adventures often gave her brain something to think on for a few days. Imagine, playing croquette with flamingos! And what of that vanishing cat? She had a sneaking suspicion that had been part of a dream at least. The girl was often found napping over her halfhearted stitchery with that cat, Dinah, in her lap. Perhaps that brought on such fancy notions. Yet it made Margaret partly envious that her sister had such dreams. Even those, had become mundane over the years for the older girl.

"Alice?" She called, entering the nursery. The light had dimmed with the approach of an early night because of the weather. She peered vainly into the corners and possible hiding places but it was no use. Alice was not in the house. As her heart was telling her.

She sat in the small rocking chair by the window, staring out into the gray again. She fancied she saw a flash of white fur between the bushes that out skirted the yard, protecting them from the small patch of wilderness the world offered up just beyond. She swore she'd seen it.

"Just a rabbit." She murmured to herself before shutting her mouth entirely. People would think her mad if she talked to herself, even such small remarks as that. She leaned back in the chair, rocking slightly and closed her eyes, trying to imagine chasing the rabbit, as her sister often talked of doing.

The rabbit was in front of her dressed, oddly enough, in a waistcoat with a watch chain glistening, barely noticeable. His feet were kicking up wildly as he hopped along, spraying dirt and grass back at her. She tried to dodge it and swipe it away with a white-gloved hand. She kept running, the mud making the travel difficult. "Oh, Mr. Rabbit, what can you mean Wonderland is in trouble? Mr. Rabbit? Mr. Rabbit!"

Her stomach dropped as she flew forward in the chair, feeling as though she were about to fall. She must have dozed off for a few moments. The voice she'd heard calling to the rabbit had been Alice's. Not hers.

"What do you mean she hasn't been in all day?" Came her mother's shout from downstairs. Margaret turned and hurried as quickly as propriety allowed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Her mother, red-faced and clearly distraught, was interrogating the cook. "You mean she hasn't even been in for her afternoon snack and you hadn't thought to let me know?"

"Please, Madame, sometimes Miss Alice skips her snack time in favor of her more fantastic divergences. I simply thought this was one of those times-" The cook was pleading, turning to frantically add more pepper into the bubbling pot on the stove. The pepper seemed to cloud the air and Margaret let out an involuntary sneeze.

"Bless you." Her mother said curtly before whisking out of the room. "I'm alerting the police this instant. My baby is missing!"

Margaret said nothing to stop her, offered no protest to this idea. Deep in her heart, she knew it to be true. She knew something to be terribly wrong. She knew Alice was in trouble.

"Strange. I never even heard the door open and shut." Cook offered up to the stove thoughtlessly.

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><p>AN~ Just a taste of what I have written so far, my dears. I just wonder what sort of reception it will receive concerning Margaret rather than Alice as the title character. But rest assured, Wonderland and all your favorite characters will be a part of it! Please, please, pretty please pass the scones along with a nice review to the Hatter, while he sits patiently twiddling his thumbs and stirring his tea.


	2. Chapter 2: Margaret dreaming

Chapter 2: In Which Margaret Has Some Dreams

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><p>The constable left shortly before nine that evening, having asked many questions and waited a while in the hopes the girl in question would appear in the front hall, drenched and muddy but very much alive and ok. Perhaps she'd gotten lost somewhere, perhaps she'd been at a friends and lost track of the time. Perhaps.<p>

Only she never showed.

Margaret tried to focus on her embroidery, tried to answer the constable's enquiries with polite and substantial answers. Only every part of her body was trembling. With restless energy, with worry, with sheer chills. She tried to subtly move closer to the fire.

"Are you unwell, miss?" The constable had demanded immediately, his eye sharp on Margaret's face. She shook her head with another little smile of gratitude.

"I'm just a little cold, is all. A little worried as you may understand. I feel I should retire to bed soon…"

"Indeed, this can't be good on my poor Margaret's nerves!" Her mother exclaimed, glancing from the constable to her daughter with a keen eye. "She is such a kind spirit! It does her very ill to be worrying so over her sister. We implore you to find some clue of her soon!"

"Quite understandable. We shall do everything we can, Madame, to bring your daughter home safe and sound. It's getting late. I shall leave and alert the others who haven't heard yet to be on the lookout. I pray you will get some rest Miss Kingsley, and not fall into a bout of bad health." This last was directed at Margaret, who took it with a bowed head and slight curtsy, before making her way upstairs to her room for the night.

She dressed for bed fitfully, pacing and letting her thoughts vent freely to the empty room. The nerve of him! In her mind he had wasted the entire night just by sitting around. Surely, if Alice had returned home of her own free will, they would have alerted him? No, instead he's going to sit around looking important instead of actually doing his work!

"Insufferable!" She exclaimed quietly before shutting her mouth again and settling on her bed to wring her hands in irritation. She tried to picture all the anxiety and frustration leaving her, like the iconic steam from the ears. Even just flowing off of her in waves would have worked. No, it hung about inside of her, eating away at her frustration.

She turned out the lamp and lay back in her bed, trying to find some solace in sleep. After much tossing and turning, exhausted mentally and physically, she finally fell into a state of fitful slumber.

Someone screamed off to the left. She turned towards the sound, peering through the darkness in earnest. All she could see were the surrounding trees. The scream was fading away, as if whoever was doing it was moving swiftly away. _Or falling_.

"Alice?" She called desperately. The trees rustled but other than that all was quiet. She took a step closer to the direction the sound had issued from. "Alice, are you there?"

"She's too far away to hear you now." A voice purred from overhead. She glanced up to see a peculiar cat with sharp teeth _smiling at her_. She shuddered and stepped back from it. The thing stretched with a yawn, the movement bringing out it's claws. It fixed glowing green eyes on her again, this time with a taunting smile. "Come now, if an old mangy thing such as myself frightens you then you'll never have the courage for what awaits you."

"What exactly is it that 'awaits' me?" She demanded, finding her voice at the insult to her courage. It was a cat for crying out loud. A rather big cat that could talk and smile but still- she wouldn't be afraid of it.

"This and that-" It said, beginning to fade out. "Knick and Knack" completely invisible. "Snicker-snack?" It reappeared down by her feet, rubbing it's lanky body along her legs. She jumped and tripped falling back into the bushes. Only she never landed, she just kept falling.

_Beware the Jabberwock, my son!_

_The jaws that bite, the claws that catch_

_Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun_

_The fumious Bandersnatch~_

"Snicker-snack! Snicker-snack!" laughed the cat somewhere by her ear as she fell, objects whirring by her head. She did the only thing a boring, proper lady could do in such a situation- she screamed.

She woke screaming and glanced about the dark room, almost expecting to see glowing green eyes and a shining pearly grin of sharp teeth. There was nothing. She glanced to the window, where a soft blue glow was falling into the room. The rain had cleared up, taking the clouds away, and the moon was round and full overhead.

She crept to the window tentatively, almost afraid to peek outside. What she saw however, was the same as it ever was. The garden, the yard, and just beyond the protective bushes, the small wilderness of trees. A flash of white-

"Why didn't you help me?" Came a strange gurgled voice behind her. She jumped and whirled about to face the speaker. The sight that met her made her want to scream.

"A-Alice?" She whispered, hardly daring to believe it. The girl before her had a grey tint to her skin, her eyes shadowed and dull. As she spoke, through a jaw that seemed to barely be hanging by a hinge, she dripped blood and some strange black congealing liquid the likes of tar onto the carpet. It oozed from many slashes in the once delicate skin of her younger sister and matted her blond hair to her head where part of her skull was caved in. The eye on that side had rolled back slightly into her head.

"Why didn't you come help me?" The thing said in halting words, as if making its mouth move to speak was a daunting task. "Didn't you hear me scream? Didn't you love me at all, Margaret?"

"Alice, I-"

"Didn't you want to save your sister?" The voice had changed, become deep and dark. The eyes glowed and suddenly the thing that had been her sister seemed to fall to the floor like a second skin as a bigger, darker menacing thing pushed itself out of her mouth. It's mouth opened into a shiny, sharp grin and it stretched forth a clawed hand to grab at Margaret, who screamed once more.

Bolt upright in bed, the covers tangled around her legs, Margaret tried to catch her breath. She pushed her sweaty hair back from her face, trying not to cry. Outside, the rain still hammered at the windows. She clutched at the stitch in her chest, the one that hadn't left since Alice's disappearance. Alice-

At the thought of her younger sister, the thing from her dream rose unbidden to her mind and she let out a small whimper, trying to push it back again. "I'm awake, I'm awake… it was just a dream. It was all a dream…"

"Small favors." A voice purred from the shadows. There was the feeling of the bed indenting and she felt it approach her, it's glowing eyes suddenly appearing just before her. The rest of it materialized shortly after. There was something familiar about this cat. Not just from the earlier dream but from before that…

"No, you can't be here. I'm awake now!" She whimpered at it, shoving it away from her in disgust. How many dreams within dreams was she supposed to have? They'd surely drive her mad. "Go away cat, I need to wake up. I can't be bothered with you any longer."

"You have very little choice in the matter if you want to save your sister." He pointed out.

"You know where Alice is, don't you?" She demanded, trying to grab him by the scruff. "Where's my sister, you mangy animal?"

"In Wonderland." He said simply before vanishing from her hold and reappearing a foot away. He cleaned his face a little before explaining, "I really dislike being manhandled."

"You're the Cheshire cat." She pointed out needlessly. He nodded his assent before flashing one of his trademark grins. She shook her head dismissively. "Then this is definitely a dream. It's got my sister's crazy stories written all over it- ouch!"

She glared down at it as it moved away from where it had clawed her arm, drawing pinpricks of blood. "Still think it's all a dream?"

"But Wonderland can't exist… it was all part of Alice's pretend stories." She whispered. He held up a paw, claws at the ready.

"Do you need more convincing?" He purred.

"No- you enjoy that entirely too much. Alice said you were all a little mad- she didn't mention cruel. She said you liked to talk in riddles and word games mostly. Why aren't you doing any of that?" She demanded, still clinging to the idea that maybe this was another talking cat, not the one Alice spoke of. Or better yet, it was all a hallucination brought on by worry. Hadn't she been feeling unwell earlier? Perhaps she'd fallen ill and-

"Do you honestly think if I were to talk to you the way I talk to your imaginative younger sister, you'd comprehend or bother with a single thing I say?" He sneered, breaking her hopeful ideas once and for all. He curled his tail around his semi-transparent body and gave her a disgusted glance. "You're supposed to be the rational one."

"Exactly. And you're asking me to believe cats can talk? And that there is a place called Wonderland?" She reminded him. He rolled his eyes away from her before vanishing until all that could be seen was his grin.

"Like I said, you have very little choice if you wish to save Alice." He purred before that too vanished into darkness. There was a pause in which Margaret truly felt alone for the first time since the dreams had begun that night. In it flashed the image of her sister, dead and puppet to whatever that evil thing inside her had been. She shivered at the recollection.

"Wait!" She whispered into the darkness, feeling foolish. "Mr. Cheshire cat?"

"No need for such formality, Chess does just as nicely." He purred, reappearing close to her arm. He settled back on his haunches. "I take it you've seen the gravity of the situation?"

"What exactly is it that has my sister? I mean, nothing's ever trapped her in Wonderland before that I recall. She always got out of any minor scrapes." Margaret pointed out suspiciously. Surprisingly the cat shook its head, almost dejectedly at this.

"I wish I could say this was a mere scrape. The thing that has hold of your sister, threatens all of Wonderland." He growled. "Which is why you must free her, the Green Queen, so that she may save us all from that which threatens to destroy our world."

"Why do you need me to do this? Don't you have any armies in Wonderland?"

"They fall apart without Alice. Alice is Wonderland. Don't you see?" He urged. She shook her head.

"I don't, really." She confessed, throwing the covers back and getting up. "But if it will save my sister, that I really have no choice in the matter. How do I get there?"

"You must wait for tomorrow. When you least expect it, look for the white hare-"

"How can I look for something when I least expect it?" She cut in but he went on as if uninterrupted.

"- you must chase him and he will run fast but you must as well. Just keep running after him. The rest will… fall into place." He finished with another grin before vanishing.

"All these things I must do." She mumbled, folding her arms and slumping. There was no answer and Margaret knew full well the cat was gone for good… for the night at least. She lay back down with a sigh, trying to close her eyes and catch some more sleep. Perhaps, tomorrow, all of this would be nothing more than a bad dream, brought on by stress. Maybe Alice was home, safe and sound, tucked in bed even as she worried. Maybe.

The rest of the night was spent in tossing and turning and Margaret finally rose early, in the grey predawn light. She rang for the maid, surprised at how frazzled the woman looked when she appeared in the door with freshly laundered things and some tea for Margaret to sip while she was dressed.

"Are you unwell, Hill?" Margaret declared, all concern at once. She stood to face the servant, her mind flying unwillingly towards the puppet Alice. What if Hill were similar.

"Been up for hours already, haven't I?" Hill retorted in her usual, griping way. "Been dressing your mother already. She's down in the drawing room with a piece of Miss Alice's embroidery in her lap. Acting like it's the bloomin' crown jewels- pardon my speech, miss!"

Margaret had already tuned out most of what the woman was saying, used to her prattling by now. Instead she tugged at her undergarments in a way that signified she was eager to dress. The maid took the hint and hurried to her aid, bustling. "No need to carry on so impatiently, it's barely light of day child! Hurrying won't make Miss Alice appear any quicker, if it's not too bold to say-"

"That is too bold, Hill." Margaret cut across, glancing outside. A flash of white in the trees. She pulled away from Hill hurriedly, the laces of her gown barely tied. Could it be? She wasn't going to take a chance. She hurried out the door without a word, rushing down the stairs, ignoring the indignant cries from the maid upstairs.

"Margaret? Margaret!" Her mother had entered the hall just in time to see her eldest daughter rush passed, hair wild about her face, barely dressed in her plain gown. Before she could do anything, the girl had the heavy door open and had rushed into the muddy yard.

She trudged through the grass, feeling it wet and sticky on her boots. The dew still hung in the air, chilling her skin, clinging like frost. The light was barely grey still so that the white glimpse she could make out was practically glowing as it twitched between the branches. What if that was the white rabbit? She pressed on towards the trees, the flash of white before her taunting her fingers to touch. She reached out a hand to grab hold of fur and felt- linen. She pulled the white thing out and studied it.

One of her sister's old aprons. The flash of white. It was Alice's old frock. Nothing more. She laughed, disheartened. It had all been a dream and like a fool, she was going to listen to it! No doubt the idea of following a rabbit had been brought on by the sight of this last night from the nursery window. Oh, stupid, stupid notion!

"Margaret Kingsley, you get back into this house right now!" Her mother shouted somewhere behind her. Margaret let out a sigh, trying to hold back the tears of frustration. She'd almost hoped it had been true…

"What in God's name do you think you are doing, child?" Her mother bellowed as she marched sadly back into the house, head bent.

"I thought I saw a rabbit." She whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. No doubt her mother would think her as foolish as she felt.

"So you thought you'd chase it like your younger sister, eh? Thought maybe this rabbit would know where your sister is?"

_Yes._

"No mother, I just… I didn't sleep well last night. I must be tired." Margaret pleaded. She waited for her mother to say something but the woman just shook her head and vanished back into the parlor, moaning something about the tragedy of her precious Alice. Margaret trudged back upstairs to finish being preened for the day.

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><p>Hatter: More, I must know more! When am I to be introduced?<p>

Me: Oh, pipe down and finish your tea.

Hatter: Tea comes from a spout, not a pipe, my dear.

Me: Alright, let's wait for some reviews while you sip. *twiddles thumbs*


	3. Chapter 3: A Rabbit Hole

Author: Woohoo, thanks for showing an interest guys! It cheers me. Next upload I'm thinking of thanking reviewers individually so get those reviews in with suggestions, questions, incontinuities, you name it and we can get a discussion going! Now, onward to the rabbit hole!

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><p>"I almost wish I hadn't gone down that rabbit-hole- and yet- and yet- it's rather curious, you know, this sort of life! I do wonder what <em>can<em> have happened to me!" ~ Alice in Wonderland

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><p>Chapter Three: Down the Rabbit Hole!<p>

"_You're late! Maggie, wake up!"_

Margaret's eyes burst open. She'd fallen asleep over her sewing again. Every time some new terror wracked her brain, making her head ache and her heart race. Alice. Always Alice. Alice crying, bleeding, dying, dead. And her friends- like patchwork dolls with wind-up backs. She could see something- something indistinct in the distance, winding them up and sending them on a path of ruin into a gaping hole- a _void_.

She couldn't take much more of this.

"Margaret, it's almost tea time." Her mother pointed out uselessly in the doorway. "There is a young gentleman here to see you, specifically. I have suggested the two of you take tea in the garden with Hill as chaperone. I shall be upstairs in my rooms- I have a bit of a headache."

"Who is it, Mama?" She inquired, frowning. As far as she knew, no one had any desire to court her as of late. Indeed, she was deemed to plain and boring to be of any interest. Too old.

"Lord Bumbling something or other." Her mother waved it away dismissively. "I trust you will head to the garden directly. Hill and our guest are waiting."

Margaret sighed but set her needlework aside and stood, smoothing her skirts. She didn't recognize the name her mother had said. No matter. She knew her mother would jump at any opportunity to marry her eldest daughter off; even in the face of the younger one's disappearance.

Out in the Garden stood a squat man with a bulbous red nose and sad, droopy eyes much like a basset hound. He had red hair which he'd slicked back with considerable amounts of grease and continuously ran his hand over it in an insecure fashion. All in all, a despicable fellow. Still, Margaret knew she really had no room to judge anyone by appearances and so she walked to him with an open smile and hand held out. He took it expertly, bowed and then they were seated.

"So sorry to hear about the loss of your sister- tragic, really. If there's anything I can do." He began with, mopping his face with a silk handkerchief. His appearance stank of money and that seemed to be the only thing he had going for him. He certainly lacked tact in conversation.

"She's not lost for good, sir. I trust Alice will be home in good time." Margaret said shortly. He gave her what he must have meant to be a trusting smile of condolence but it looked more leering than anything. Margaret focused on her tea. "If you please, sir, I'm quite certain I'm forgetting your face from somewhere? You act so familiar, yet-"

"Oh, we've never met." He cut across smoothly.

"Then what-"

"I have a proposition for you." He said sharply, suddenly all business. "I want you to forget about Alice."

"How could you-" He stopped her again, putting a hand firmly over her own fingers, squeezing. His grasp was like a vice, her fingers felt brittle, about to snap. She cried out in terror, her eyes flying to his face, wide and pleading. He glared back, his eyes red like fire, something black, the consistency of smoke seemed to ooze out his ears, nostrils, mouth- any orifice, really.

"Alice is mine now, you can not reach her. Forget her and I will ensure your life passes peacefully. I can find you riches, love, whatever you desire. Just abandon this foolish notion that you can get Alice back." It rasped in many voices at once. Margaret felt her shoulders set in determination. Clearly, whatever this was didn't know not to challenge a Kingsley.

"I will get Alice back!" She hissed dangerously. It's vice-like grip snapped shut and she cried out in pain as the bones in her hand shattered. One poked through the skin, a haunting sight and she screamed and screamed and screamed.

"_Maggie!"_

"Alice!" Margaret opened her eyes, finding herself alone in the garden. Behind her there were raised, frantic voices in the house, growing louder.

"- I just don't understand, she just punched the tree and… never saw such violence in a young woman…no, no, I think it best I just leave… please, she's not right… perhaps this business with her sister… well, good day!"

The front door slamming, hurried footsteps, Hill with bandages, her mother with a red face in anger. Margaret, still in a state of shock, watched as Hill took her broken hand and tried resetting the bones in somewhat proper place. It was enough to bring the girl out of her stupor. She cried out in pain.

"What is wrong with your head?" Her mother said softly from the open door.

Margaret couldn't meet her eyes. "He was lying to you, mother. He attacked me."

"And I'm expected to believe a gentleman such as that could do something such as _that_ to your hand with ease?" She pointed out with a shake of her head.

"He wasn't a gentleman, at all! He was… he was something else. Something wicked… something unreal." Margaret confessed grudgingly. "He told me to stop looking for Alice."

"Oh, is that what you've been doing? Falling asleep over your stitching to find your sister, eh?" Hill remarked snidely. Margaret glanced at her, horrified. The old housekeeper had always taken her and her sister's sides in things, often helping them avoid more strict punishments. Hill would never say something so cruel. She noted something different, something wrong in Hill's eyes as they met hers briefly over the now tied bandage. "Breaking your hand, mutilating it for life most likely, is not going to bring Alice back."

Mrs. Kingsley had vanished into the house. Hill's eyes lowered at the girl before her, her voice became low as she added, "nothing will."

"That's what you think." Margaret met her tone flawlessly. Then, the housekeeper vanished into the house and Margaret was left studying the surrounding trees, cradling her hand in a sling close to her chest. Whatever this thing was that had come in with that gentleman and now lived in Hill- whatever it was that had Alice- had just made it's first action in battle. Margaret wasn't going to let it win without a fight. "Come on, white rabbit. Where are you?"

"When you least expect it…" the cat's voice echoed around and she glanced for it momentarily, the rabbit already flying from her thoughts to be replaced by this new entity.

Just then, there was a glimmer of white. It moved swiftly between the trees, not in the languid movements Alice's apron had but rather in jerky, shaky ones. This was her ticket to Wonderland. Margaret got up without another thought and jogged once more to the trees. She peered through frantically. There! She ran towards it, listening to see if it would speak as the cat had.

It seemed like just an ordinary rabbit. It hopped madly to and fro, glancing back in horror at the human thundering after it. Still, it's diagonal tread wasn't lost or wasted on the girl. It stopped short in a little clearing and turned to face her, it's nose twitching. She began to slow as she neared it.

"Are you the right rabbit?" She asked breathlessly, wincing at the throb in her arm. The rabbit didn't reply, simply twitched at her, studying her with one red eye. She shivered at the color, but it wasn't glowing and she knew for a fact most white-furred animals seemed to have red eyes. Albino, she thought it was called. She stepped more hesitantly. "Can you take me to Alice?"

It turned away to look for something it seemed to hear in the distance. Margaret caught sight of a wind-up key in its back and she shook her head in dismay.

"Should have known it wasn't real…" She murmured to herself. There was a crackling of twigs and suddenly the ground seemed to vanish beneath her feet. Margaret felt her stomach jump up into her throat even as a scream rose unbidden to her lungs. She was falling! She was falling down a rabbit hole!

"_I'll surely be dashed to bits at the bottom- this hole seems so deep!"_ She thought to herself as she fell. Yet contrarily, her descent seemed to be slowing some and she was free to browse the things on all sides of her as she went along. _'This must be a hallucination of sorts, logically a person can't slow down falling. Yes, I must have cracked finally under all the stress.'_

She pulled a tea cup off of a table and sniffed gingerly at its contents before letting it go. Too peppery smelling to be tea. The tea cup floated upwards, as if too light to be affected by gravity. Margaret's eyes strayed to a bookcase. _'I suppose I could read something as I fall, but I'm far too anxious to read. And what if I miss the ground coming up to meet me with my nose in a book? I'm liable to hurt myself_.'

Instead she glanced about some more. There were the most peculiar things. A couch, an hourglass, she could even have sworn to pass a skull at one point. She shuddered at the notion and decided instead to glance downwards. The floor was only about six feet away.

Immediately she quickened and landed on her stomach with an "Oof!" She wanted to just lay there, with her eyes firmly shut and her cheek pressed to the cool tile floor. Just pretend none of it felt real at all and that she was simply dreaming out in the garden back home. Then she thought of Alice. She opened her eyes and sat up to gaze about the small, dimly lit, circular room.

All around her were doors. Big, imposing doors with ornate knobs and strange, misshapen ones she'd have to bend over to get through. White painted, red painted, natural wood, black, brass, copper, silver… the list seemed endless. She made her way to the nearest one and tried the knob. It wouldn't even turn. She tried another and another.

"_And I swear, Maggie, I was in this room full of doors and all were locked. Then I turned and there was a table with a bottle and…"_

"… and I shrunk." Maggie finished, turning with little to no surprise to find the glass table there. There was a bottle of pink liquid sitting there, the only clue to it's purpose was a tag which simply read 'Drink me.' She picked it up and unstoppered it, gingerly sniffing. Well, what if it was poison? An elaborate trick? She glanced at the table again, noticing a key for the first time. It was a tiny, silver thing, barely big enough to belong to a diary.

"What door could this possibly fit?" Maggie wondered aloud. No one was here to hear her talking to herself so she saw no reason to avoid the inevitable any longer. After all, don't most mad people talk to themselves. It seemed like it would be one of the sure signs…

A curtain in the corner caught her eye and she remembered Alice telling her such a curtain had hidden a small door from her sight. Only there was something she'd forgotten to do. What is it Alice had forgotten to do? She frowned, trying to remember.

"Well, if I take this and shrink, I'm liable to lose the key. Or worse yet, if I hold it, what if it shrinks with me? We can't have that…" She casually took off the silver chain around her neck, tucking it's small charm of a horseshoe into her pocket before slipping the small key onto it instead. "There, that ought to do the trick."

She set the key down before taking a small sip of the potion. Her greatest fear was drinking too much and finding herself vanishing altogether from the world. It would be unwise and helpful to no one. She began to feel queasy, aching all over as if there was a pressure in her skull as well as her muscles. Then the table began to grow larger than her- and so did the doors!

There weren't growing larger, she was in fact shrinking. This potion of Alice's was real. There was a potion that could make you shrink! Instead of reassuring her of her sister's sanity, it only worked to make her uneasy. Maybe the dangers were real too- and that cat…

"You made the same mistake your sister did- I thought you were supposed to be the rational one." The cat in question said. Margaret immediately scanned about for any sign of a towering feline but it must have remained invisible.

"What mistake would that be?" She asked the air in general. She then fell to inspecting her appearance as she waited for a reply. Her clothes were now far too big for her and she found herself instead in a calf-length sage green gown with loose short sleeves that she constantly tugged up over her shoulders. Her hair, she noted, had fallen out of it's ribbons after the fall and hung in loose dark curls around her face. For some, inexplicable reason, she still wore her boots. All in all, her appearance was scandalous! She merely hoped no one from town would she her in such a manner. There'd no doubt be talk.

"You left the key on the table." The cat chuckled calmly, seemingly having waited for her to finish inspecting herself. She turned and looked, letting out a small sigh. The small thing did indeed continue to sit on the table. Only-

"Aha!" She cried, hurrying towards the towering glass table and jumping lightly into the air. She snatched at the chain dangling off the very edge and the entire thing came tumbling down along with her onto the floor. At least she'd had a way to get the key back off of the table.

She sat up, studying it curiously. It was now the size of a battle axe in her hand. She'd still managed to shrink too much. Still, at least she didn't have to mess around with the suspicious cakes she'd noticed under the table. She began to drag the heavy key and chain across to the tiles. She shrugged the curtain aside and sure enough, a small door stood there, still somewhat towering over her new height. She struggled to hoist the key over her head and fit it into the lock. Turning it was fairly easier; she simply grabbed on to the higher end of the loop and used her weight to bring it to turn. The door snapped open with a blinding light that seemed to tug both her and the key into it's jaws.

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><p>Author: So, I thought changing the color of Margaret's gown was important, cause Alice is all known for cornflower blue-ness. And I thought sage-green fitting, I mean it's neutral, it's not so vibrant and bubbly as Alice's blue. It sort of describes current Maggie, don't you think?<p>

*Syfy Channel Alice movie Hatter appears*

Author: Um, hello? Nice eyeliner.

Mad Hatter (Tim Burton Alice movie): Don't talk to him, he's an outsider! Hurry up and finish the story! When do I appear? *clapping*

Author: Listen, I've been thinking... in all your vibrancy you might be a bit of a shock.. maybe we should tone it down?

Hatter (Syfy): Um, what is this place, here?

Author: Wonderland! Well, my Wonderland... no casinos for you.

Mad Hatter: Scurvy dog! Degenerate bag-head mockery of myself! Look at him, he's wearing brown! *manic laughter*

Hatter: He's mad as a box of frogs.

Author: Oh, dear... well, at least it's just you two.

*In drops Cartoon Hatter*

Author: eep.


	4. Chapter 4: Wonderland?

A/N~ sorry this has taken me sooo long. What with work and studying German. You know, lessons dont actually lessen the more you work at them. They just get more difficult! Anyhow, excuses, excuses, let's have some Margaret adventures! Please leave a review for the Hatters, they do enjoy compliments and will be entering our story shortly.

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><p>"<em>Nasty cat, don't try to bully me! I'm very much on edge!"<em>

"_Purrfect, if you're not on edge, you're taking up too much space."_

_~ Alice: Madness Returns_

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><p>Chapter 4: Wonderland, proper and improper<p>

Margaret opened her eyes to find she was once more face down on the ground, this time, she smelt earth and as she sat up, caught a glimpse of grass, towering overhead like trees. From this angle, in fact, it looked exactly like trees. She stood and took a glimpse around but there was nothing really to be seen. The trees- er, grass- made sure of that. Beside her lay the key on the chain she'd put it on. She stooped down to try and lift it.

"I wonder why this was brought with me." She mused.

"Clearly, you're going to need it." Chess's voice echoed somewhere above her. She shot an irritated look towards the air, hoping he caught it.

"If that's all the help you're going to be cat, you can just be on your way. I refuse to take insults from a feline." She instructed, dusting herself off carefully. She pat her hair, self-consciously. Oh, why did she have to lose her ribbons? It was so indecent!

"How about something to make you larger again? Not normal size, but large enough for Wonderland." He purred somewhere. She fought with herself, wishing she had an excuse to turn down the offer but she knew she couldn't save Alice the size of an ant and so she nodded. Instantly, something dropped beside her- a chunk of mushroom.

"I hate mushroom…" She complained. Still, if it would make her taller. She grimaced before swallowing the piece of fungus with a wince. Immediately, she began to feel lightheaded and empty, with her stomach growling. She was growing again, she realized with a start. She glanced about as the grass-trees came up to meet her and then she was soaring past them… so that they settled waist-high. She realized the tops she'd mistaken for canopies were simply the heads of purple wild flowers. They swayed in the perfumed breeze. She was surrounded on three sides by forest- real forest- and the fourth side was a small cottage, overlooking an ocean of sorts.

She stooped to grab the key, which was still the size of a small dagger. She had no pockets it seemed and so she slung the chain around her waist like a makeshift belt, pushing the key through the loop so it dangled midway down her leg. She glanced up again.

"This place seems too peaceful and real to be Wonderland…" She commented as she began to walk towards the cottage. "Still surreal to a city-dweller. All I ever see are buildings… but this- an actual scenery!"

"There's very little of that left where you come from and more and more vanishes with each passing year. Mankind grows tired looking at the same picture everyday. He needs to demolish something natural in order to tame it and remake it in his image." The cat commented, suddenly appearing at her side. In the sunlight she could see what the darkness in her room hid. That several patches of fur were missing and his ribs stuck out vividly on his sides. He turned and she noted that part of one of his ears was missing. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I've often wondered why people have to tear down trees and plow wild fields such as this to build their houses. Why not rebuild over a condemned property?" She replied.

"Nothing like the feeling of conquering something feral, wouldn't you say?" Chess suggested with a wicked glint in his eye.

"I don't understand, you said Wonderland was in trouble, that it was being destroyed by some menace. Why, this looks as fine and as normal as any sea-side cottage…" Margaret breathed.

"Do you honestly think I'd drop you right into the thick of things? You're not prepared for that yet. You'd be of no use to Alice dead." He pointed out. "With you, it's much trickier than with Alice. With you, everything must follow a rational logic. Which is why-"

"Why the rabbit was clockwork!" Margaret finished, realization dawning on her. "You don't think I can accept my sister's stories!"

"Have you yet to do so?" It asked calmly, stopping to lick it's paw.

"Well… no. This has to be a dream of sorts… a very, vivid dream. Brought on by that creep's attack in the garden!" She reasoned. The memory urged her to glance down at her broken hand but it was whole and completely healed. Surely, this was another sign that she was dreaming?

"Keep telling yourself that if it keeps you on the right track. Dream or not to you, you still have to save your sister and this world from certain death." The cat reminded her darkly, before halting halfway to the door. He gestured with his head. "Beyond there lies the real danger. I recommend spending some time in this field getting acquainted with the feel of Wonderland."

"The feel of Wonderland?" She repeated. He sighed, as if already losing patience.

"You can't expect typical laws of gravity and physics to exist here, as you must have realized from the fact you've already been several heights today. I suggest exercising a bit. Run, jump, anything to more firmly grasp how your body reacts to this world." He explained. "You'll need a weapon to face the dangers ahead, which I'm afraid to say I can't give you at this time. Until further notice, that key acts as your blade."

"This key?" She demanded, holding it up by the chain with a look of utter disappointment. "What am I supposed to do? Swing it around and trip them up? It's not sharp enough to do any real damage!"

"Just test it out!" The cat snapped before vanishing without another word. She huffed but turned to acclimate herself as instructed. She saw a rock in the distance and began to sprint to it. The air offered little resistance to her frame and she found she could breathe with ease afterwards.

"Well, it's not really exercise then, is it?" She remarked to herself. "Surely you can't be exercising if you can't even feel it anywhere."

She then jumped up on to the rock, nearly crying out when her feet left the ground and she went much higher than a normal jump. She landed on the rock with ease. Then, she jumped back off, watching in bewilderment as she floated gently down, similar to what had happened in the rabbit hole. Like before, the moment she focused on the ground, it was as if a weight landed on her and she dropped like a stone. "Most peculiar. I'm lighter here, unless I glance downward. Now, to test this so-called weapon. I hope I won't need it, I don't know the first thing about fighting… not that I've ever been ashamed of that before now, of course."

She undid the chain from around her waist, finding it slid away easily at her command, practically wrapping itself around her hand eagerly. The key glittered sharply on the end of the chain. She took a practice swipe at the rock, certain it would bounce back and hit her. The key made a hissing noise as it collided with the stone… and left a noticeable scratch in it. She let the key fall to her side, staring in shock at the boulder.

"Impossible." She grasped the chain tightly, swinging the key in a few circles before striking even harder than before. A huge gouge was left in the rock, a bit of it carved out and laying at her feet in pebbles. She took a fresh look at the key. "A weapon, indeed! I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I just hope I wont have to put you to much use."

There was a chuckle and she hurried over to where the cat had materialized in a low lying branch of a dead tree, right next to the cottage. "Well, Margaret. Do you think you're ready to face the new Wonderland?"

"I don't know… I have to think on it." She hedged, stepping back and eying the door warily. She seemed to have more agility and lightness of foot here yes, and swinging the key proved no difficulty at all, but could she actually fight something if she had to? What if this was all some big mistake and she wasn't meant to be a hero? What if she failed Alice before she even got into Wonderland proper? She felt her shoulders slump and her body felt suddenly very heavy.

"Careful now, you don't want to let those kind of thoughts consume you raw. You're beginning to sink into… self-pity." The cat said smoothly. Margaret glanced down and saw that it wasn't self-pity but the ground that now had hold of her feet. She jumped and hopped a little bit.

"What's happening?"

"Serenity is becoming unstable." He informed her, inspecting the ground as if in disgust. "I don't mean to rush you but Time is not exactly fighting on your side at the present moment."

"I can't even think on it?" Margaret demanded and the answer was another lurch from the ground. She hopped away, taking one last look at honey grass and the peaceful sway of wildflowers in sunshine. Then, she opened the door and hesitated just on the brink of the entranceway. Inside was pitch black as far as she could see.

"A word of advice you will want to follow: curiosity kills the cat." Chess grumbled. She glanced over her shoulder at him carefully.

"It's killed- not kills." She corrected, knowing the age-old lesson from her mother's scolding of Alice. The younger girl had become a tad sensitive to the expression after the disappearance of Dinah a few months ago.

"We'll see." Was all Chess said before vanishing once more into nothing.

"And here I thought he was going to go easy on me and _not_ talk in riddles all the time…" Margaret grumbled up at the empty space in the tree. The ground gave a threatening rumble at just that moment and Margaret watched in horror as en entire piece of land seemed to fall away into nothingness, taking the tree with it- roots and all. It was the incentive she needed and she turned and abruptly took a step into the darkness inside the cabin.

It was as if her stomach jumped and she realized she was once more drifting downwards. So, no floor in the bloody cabin? Then- what if it had already dropped away like the tree outside? What if she was falling into this void? She'd already lost! She glanced around horrified and panicking. Without thinking her gaze fell down below and for a moment it was as if time slowed down.

She saw abandoned railroad tracks, dropping away into broken shambles. All around, tiny figures twitched and whirred, little cogs and gears spinning away in their limbs. They were hollow shells with glowing eyes and blinking bulbs. Skin haphazardly stitched over the framework of machines. It was something straight out of her nightmares. Then Time caught up with her again.

She began to fall towards the ground at an accelerating rate. Tree limbs- dead and skeletal- whizzed past her, one grazing her cheek painfully as she screamed and fell. Dark ominous flowers glowed faintly beneath her and she could tell they were venomous and hateful things. The ground was very close- she closed her eyes-

A squeak of springs and dust tickled Margaret's nose along with the smell of mildew. She sat up, cradling her head and got her first glimpse of 'the new Wonderland'. It was dark, dank, and rotten with an odd fog hovering over everything. Mysterious toadstools in vibrant toxic colors dotted the barren darkness, oozing suspicious liquids. Strange creatures slithered across the ground, with multiple heads, glaring eyes, and sharp teeth. Margaret reached up to run her fingers through her hair fretfully and pulled away a slug.

"Ugh, oh gross!" She whimpered, shaking it off and springing to her feet. The thing she'd landed on was of course an old bed with wrought ironwork frame and a moldy blanket haphazardly draped over the discolored mattress. She glanced around as her eyes adjusted and caught sight of hanging wires, occasionally sparking. The ground just beyond her was actually ankle deep in water. Metal tunnels branched in all directions.

"Which one should I take?" She whispered breathlessly, fearful to speak too loudly. Who knew what sort of things hovered in the darkness just beyond sight? She didn't want to attract any attention. Gripping the key tightly for comfort, she climbed down off of the creaking bed, glancing around. Something moved out of the corner of her eye- something that looked very similar to the mechanical rabbit that led her here. Impulsively, she began to chase it.

"Hey- wait! Please! Mr. Rabbit?" She called, splashing through the murky water after it. The thing's jerky movements were projected on to the walls, dancing manically across her vision. She blinked it away, picking up her skirt slightly to run easier. Her hair fanned out behind her with the impressive speed of her chase but still, the shadow always stayed far ahead. It seemed to be gaining distance- "Wait!"

She rounded a bend in the echoing metal tunnel only to find a steep drop. She tried to stop herself in time but her feet slipped over the grime covering the floor beneath the water and she pitched forward headfirst into a stagnant pool.

It was disorienting under the water, with no light to pierce the dark and alert her to the whereabouts of the surface. The only solution was to swim and hope she swam in the right direction. Thankfully, all the running had barely caused her heartbeat to speed up, let alone cause her breathing to be labored, and Margaret kicked around for a while before her head finally broke through to the chilled dark air of the tunnels. She gasped in deep breathes. Although running through the atmosphere of this place wasn't challenging, breathing under water was still out of the question. She struggled to keep her head above the metallic smelling stagnant water, gasping at the rank air gratefully.

After several gasps, she stilled, listening for any sounds other than the subtle splashing of her arms keeping her afloat. There was nothing but the lonely drip. Suddenly, a bright light washed over her and Margaret panicked, fearing the worst but then it faded some and she could make out the one holding it- not Mr. Rabbit at all, but a mouse. She swam towards the narrow ledge it stood on gratefully.

"Oh, Mr. Mouse, will you help me?" She urged as she got close. She looked for any way up but found no ladder. With a surprising show of strength, the mouse easily plucked her from the water with one hand, setting her on the ledge and twitching it's nose at her.

"What are you?" It asked, plainly.

"I'm a human." She replied, blinking in confusion. She stood, wringing out her hair and dress and holding out her hand. "My name is Margaret."

"I've never heard of a Margaret." He squeaked, narrowing his eyes at her and sniffing noticeably. "Smells fishy to me."

"Well, yes. I mean, I was just in that water and oh, it's chilly. Do you know a place I can get dry before I continue on my way? I'm looking for someone." She said as politely as she could. Still, it was hard not to stare when one finds oneself talking to a mouse. He seemed to become annoyed because he huffed and turned from her with a stiff motion from his head.

"Who's someone?" He asked as they maneuvered the narrow ledge, slipping into a narrow crack in the wall Margaret hadn't even noticed. She glanced about as they walked, baffled by the glowing mold and crystals on the slimy stone, tripping over little creatures and vines that twitched and retreated as if alive. She learned to step over these.

"Her name is Alice- Alice Kingsley?" She offered. Mr. Mouse stopped abruptly, turning to her with beady eyed curiosity.

"The Alice? The Third Queen? What would you want with her, then?" He asked, suspicious.

"I came to bring her back with me. She's my sister." Margaret said simply. She knew Chess was probably yowling in disapproval even at that very moment, but hadn't he helped her out of the water? And wasn't he leading her to- well, somewhere? Alice had mentioned a Mr. Mouse helping her on her first journey, when she was precocious and not at all good at manners.

"_I was so rude to him, Maggie. It's a wonder he didn't leave me to drown!" Alice giggled at the recollection._

Margaret shook these thoughts away, swatting at them like an annoying bug. She kept one hand firmly on the wall to guide her as they walked. "Will you help me find her? Or at least point me in the right direction?"

Mr. Mouse shook his head in an odd twitchy way, but maybe that's just how mice were. Her mother always complained about the twitchy, squeaky mice in the kitchen. Margaret thought it impolite to ask. Besides, he was talking in that quick, agitated way he had. "Don't know where The Alice is. Didn't even know she was back now, did I? The Alice would be sitting on the green throne if she was at all present and the green throne is empty."

"Well, I think she might have been captured." Margaret said as they emerged from the crack into a brightly lit room filled to the ceiling with giant, leaning towers of books. They were far too large to be of much use for reading, but as Margaret glanced about, she could see people slipping in and out of the pages. Living literature it would seem. At one end of the room, she could have sworn she caught sight of Mr. Toad, a character whose wild adventures their father used to tell them about before bed.

"You don't say…" mused Mr. Mouse in a dry, echoing voice. Margaret strained and could have sworn she heard some sort of mysterious clicking noise accompanying his words. She turned to study him carefully, her fingers lightly tracing the key at her waist. The affect was immediate. As if sensing her fingers on the cool metal, Mr. Mouse's head snapped up and his eyes glowed.

"I'm afraid, my dear, we haven't got time for the Caucus Race. It seems you are needed elsewhere." He said in a dry monotone voice. Margaret shrunk away from him, her heart dropping. She had a feeling this encounter was going to come with a lesson.

"I know where I'm needed and that's wherever my sister is." She said as bravely as she could.

"Well then, allow us to escort you." With that being said, he seemed to grow before her eyes, shagning shape as the fur fell away like a rotten cloak. It dropped to the ground with a sickening squelch noise, attracting flies. All around the room, costumes seemed to drop away and dark figures were forming. Men shaped like cards… carrying spears!

She turned to run away, hearing the horrible click-click and squeak as the mechanical Mr. Mouse prepared to give flight, his red glowing eyes burning a hole into his prey. She could hear his voice, loud as if booming over a megaphone and surrounding her with dread of the inevitable with it's metallic twanging order. "Card Sharks- get her!"

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><p>Author: oh, I am positively wicked! At least the next chappie's almost written.<p>

Syfy Hatter: um, who are you talking to?

Cartoon Hatter: I told you, never put butter in the works with a bread knife!

Mad Hatter: well... I couldn't very well use a fork, now could I? Scurvy red queen worshippin'-

Cartoon Hatter: my good man!

Mad Hatter: I'm fine!

Author: Ugh, whoever will listen.

Syfy Hatter: um, yeah. uh, clearly... I'm not supposed to be here.

Author: Good point. hm, that gives me an idea.

Syfy Hatter: What?

Author: Oh, just follow me and you'll see. Since you're not our REAL Hatter, you might be useful as a sort of... helper.

Syfy Hatter: Eh. No. Use him as your bloody helper!

Author: he's received an invitation from the duchess to play croquette. He's going to be a little... tied up. Hence why we'll need your help.

Syfy Hatter: I'm confused.

Author: Will you just come with me, already?


	5. Chapter 5: Margaret Has Some Tea

Author's Notes: Sorry, Sorry, Sorry for the late and overdo update. I hope I still have a few readers out there. School was brutal but I'm officially a college graduate with an English degree and I work... at a convenience store. So, my goal is to upload a chapter a night, either to this story or one of my other long overdo work in progress stories. Again, sorry. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>A Run-In with the Hatter~<p>

"He's mad as a box of frogs!"

~Syfy Channel's Mini Series "Alice"

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><p>Margaret ran for her life, and for Alice's, as the Card Sharks closed in behind her. They seemed to crawl out of the stacks of books flat but quickly gaining dimension, tumbling down, down, down…<p>

Up ahead the clockwork Mr. Mouse jumped out from behind the huge hourglass that seemed to be oozing black tar. She tried to side-step at the last moment and he grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around dangerously close to the edge of the table. His joints whirred and clicked and squeaked, a morbid façade of what he should have been.

"No! Let go of me!" Margaret screamed, kicking out and elbowing as best she could. But clockwork doesn't feel pain nor emotion. She screamed and bit and cried, panicking. She could see the Card Sharks were nearly upon them and Mr. Mouse hoisted her up over his shoulder to bring her to meet them. As he did so, she caught sight of a keyhole in his back, just behind a large gear. Of course!

She fumbled to get her arms around to the chain at her waist and pulled. It fell away easily into her hand and she quickly pulled it around, inserting the key into it's back and giving a hard turn. It was immediate; the entire thing shut down, it's arms still clamped around her waist. She wriggled until she slipped free and tumbled to the floor, just inches from the edge that fell away into unknown darkness. She clamored up again.

"Right." She said, turning every which way. "Where do I go? Where should I go?"

The key burned in her hand and she quickly wrapped it once more at her waist. Directly ahead of her was a large picture of a house and to her right, a book with a tea party set up on it's cover. Her feet ran towards this one, seeming to recall something Alice said about the tea being much more helpful than the tiny cottage- the home of the White Rabbit. With the Cards right behind her, she tripped into the cover of the book, floating down through the type in that weird way Wonderland has.

"Yeah, just take care not to glance down." She whispered to herself. She looked up instead, fearful the Cards had followed her, but something seemed to stop them from entering the book. She could see weird indents forming in the sky overhead every time one tried to force it's way. "It must have something to do with the key."

She spent a good deal of time floating down and so she tried to occupy herself with reading the words that wafted by. A lot of emotion words seem to come up… as well as tea. Lots of tea. Earl Grey, Peppermint, Ginger, Chamomile, Cinnamon…

"I must be in a story about Alice's friend the Hatter. It would make sense, what with the picture of the tea party on the cover and all…" She glanced around annoyed. "You know, I spend more of my time just floating in midair than I do actually journeying anywhere to save my sister!"

She made the mistake of glancing down as she said this. Thankfully, she had just about reached the bottom as she found herself suddenly thrown at the ground as if in disgust. She quickly stood, fixing her skirts impatiently, only to find they'd changed from her original light blue to something red plaid with her hair free floating in an even wilder fashion than before. The few ribbons she'd managed to hold on to were gone.

She caught sight of herself in an oversized saucer and frowned. The dress barely grazed her knees and had no sleeves but two slim straps to hold it up. "If Scotsmen wore sundresses, I'd look like a Scotsman. Still have my boots though… small favors."

She then began to wander down the lane, puzzling over the curiosity that was the surroundings. Everything was in black and white and varying shades of grey. It was rather depressing and only added to her earlier trepidation about her sister. Even the flowers were grey here… she touched one a little sadly, only to jump back when it sprung to a violent shade of pink without warning.

"Curiouser and curiouser…" She quoted her sister, running her hands over the whole bush. Immediately it sprang to colorful life and it began to spread to the surrounding ones- at least the ones in the area behind her and where her feet touched. Everything ahead remained sad and morose. "Well, best to go onward, then!"

She trudged along, admiring the colors that sprang in her wake. The flowers cycled through all the colors of the rainbow, as she'd seen an odd contraption do once at her friends house. If you wound it up and stuck a candle behind it, bits of colored glass on the turning wheel cast their vibrancy about the room. This had a more magical quality to it, the colors fading seamlessly into each other as they danced along behind her.

Up ahead she could make out a tiny garden gate and beyond that a long table laid out with several plates. She hastened to it, hoping the Hatter and his friends would be somewhat helpful. At the table however, she found just one figure, slumped over his cup so that only the top of his grey hat was visible.

"A-are you… the Hatter?" She asked, suddenly losing her confident nerve. There was a twitch of movement and her hand flew to the key now secured at her back as if to hold the black ribbon belt in place. She watched him very carefully, wondering if he'd have a keyhole on his back like Mr. Mouse had. He sat up with jerky movements, color quickly filling in his features. He didn't look as Alice had described but then again, her description of him always varied upon each trip she seemed to take.

His hair wasn't vibrant orange like the last story, nor was he three feet tall as in her first adventure. No, he was normal height- at least, Margaret thought it was normal height, since she'd changed so much- but Chess had said he'd returned her to just a little shorter than usual and this figure looked as if he'd stand maybe a few inches taller. His hair was a sort of reddish brown- so the red was still slightly present- and his eyes seemed black, gazing at her out of his pale face. He frowned a little surreptitiously.

"Alice?" He demanded as if already knowing the answer to be no.

"Um, no… I'm Margaret." She replied anxiously. He straightened, his movements suddenly fluid and human. He sighed and began to pick at lint on his sleeve.

"Well, I wasn't expecting a Margaret. I'm expecting an Alice, who's late for tea again!" He replied, his voice rising slightly on the accusation.

"Well, it's not surprising really, is it?" Margaret offered up. He glanced up at her confused and she sat at the opposite end of the table, still very far from him. "I mean, she's been kidnapped, remember? I'm here to get her back."

"Alice? Kidnapped? Impossible! She's the best fighter Wonderland's got." The Hatter chuckled. Margaret frowned.

"Well even the best can be caught unawares." She snapped.

"Would you care for a spot of tea?" He asked suddenly and she found the table shrinking, drawing her closer so that she was a mere few feet from him. She noted his nose turned up kind of like a rabbit's and that he had rather large front teeth as he spoke. Anyone else would look odd… he just looked natural.

"Um, no. I was wondering if you might be able to help me." She answered.

"Tell me something-" He began, attempting to pour tea into an empty cup as if he hadn't heard her. He stopped, puzzled and peeked inside. Then he reached his be-thimbled hand in and pulled out a large mouse. "Dormouse- been at the chamomile again?"

The brown mouse simply hiccupped then went about snoring face down in the butter with it's butt in the air. The image was so comical that Margaret giggled behind her hand. The Hatter seemed to have noticed, his eyes flew to her face, strangely brilliant green.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" He demanded and for a moment Margaret worried she'd offended him. He smirked. "You should see Marchie's floor show."

"Marchie?" Margaret repeated and as if on cue a twitching brown rabbit appeared from inside a house shaped like a tea kettle. He began a sort of can-can across the field towards the table before promptly tripping and sliding across it face first, knocking the dormouse into Margaret's lap in the process. Margaret chuckled at that.

"Ridiculous!" She scolded, gently setting the dormouse back on the table. Hatter immediately reached forward and scooped him into the teapot. She fanned herself a little with her hand, glancing about at how the steam seemed to rise from the ground rather than the tea. "It's awful hot around here, isn't it?"

"'Fraid there's nothing to be done about that. Take what we can get." Hatter replied calmly.

"Pity." She replied with a wistful frown.

"What did you say you were again?"

"What?" She repeated, confused.

"Yes, exactly." He nodded. He caught the blank expression on her face and leaned forward, looking entirely bored and at ease. "Well, you're not an Alice, we've established that. And you don't look like March Hare or Dormouse or myself. Certainly no Queen of Hearts- no offense. So… what are you?"

"You're not clockwork like the rest of them." She realized and his eyes softened to a sort of golden. He settled back in his seat, studying her over his steepled fingers, waiting. She cleared her throat and said, "I'm Margaret. I'm Alice's sister and she's been kidnapped. I need to see the Red Queen-"

"Well, that's where you lost it right there." Hatter said, getting up and strolling away. "You're as mad as us, it's no wonder you're still a Margaret and not some robotic contraption-"

"So you have noticed Wonderland is in trouble!"

"Yes." He said simply, shrugging.

"And you're just going to sit here and drink tea?" She demanded, incredulously.

"Yes." He repeated with another shrug. She shook her head in disgust and got up to leave. Suddenly, straps appeared, wrapping around her wrist. She glanced up, frightened.

"What are you doing?" She demanded. Hatter said nothing, his gaze focused on a patch of violets by his feet. Margaret struggled harder. "Hatter, let me go! Get these things off of me!"

His eyes were glowing red when he focused on her again. "You're not Alice then what are you?"

"I told you- I'm Margaret!"

"I've never heard of a Margaret!" He hissed. "What is that? Some clever new clockwork machine that looks like a real person? I mean, you wear expressions so fluidly for crying out loud! Not a gear in sight! Where did you come from?"

"From Alice's world!" She tried to explain.

"Ah- you heard her, you heard it yourself!" The hare cried excitedly, jumping up and down and pointing at her. Hatter pulled a pair of tailor scissors from his belt and aimed them at Margaret's throat. The hare began to giggle maniacally.

"This is Alice's World… which leads me to believe you're another polluted piece of infestation to it!" The Hatter hissed darkly, pressing the scissors to her throat. Margaret gulped, feeling her eyes well up in terror. "Now, if I cut your throat will you shed motor oil?"

"Hatter, please…" She begged in a whisper. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and slid down her cheek as she stared up at him pleadingly. His eyes cooled from fire red to an ice blue. "Please, don't do this… let me go find my sister, that's all I want. Please…"

He pulled the scissors away and stepped back, much to the protests of the Hare. He put them back in his belt before turning to his companion. "She's human, Marchie. Those things don't cry tears… and if I'm not mistaken, Alice did mention some sort of sister…"

The straps that had held her wrists immediately disappeared away and she massaged her arms, casting glares up at the man who'd just tried to kill her. She then stood and turned to leave. "Well, I can see you won't be much help at all. I'll just go save her myself. This was a mistake."

"Wait." Hatter ordered and she listened, if only because she was worried he'd start brandishing the scissors again. He looked up at her a bit sheepishly. "I got to be on my guard, don't I? I mean, those things are everywhere… crawling. It's maddening."

"Oh? And you, as a mad person are able to judge maddening from sane, right?" She turned on her heel to stalk off in a huff.

"Come back." He tried, before jogging to her instead. "Look, those things know all the basics, yeah? I mean, they know to laugh, they know to wear basic expressions. The one thing they can't do is cry- cause they've got no tears now, do they? What was I supposed to do?"

"How about trust me?" She replied, folding her arms. "None of the bad things have gotten into your little tea party yet, have they? What would make me so special?"

"Yeah, how did you get in here, anyway?" He demanded, scratching his head under his hat. He seemed to think of something and produced another hat from out of nowhere. "Oh, here. Want to watch your head in this heat- liable to burn."

He gave the hat a little tap from emphasis after placing it on her head and gave her a weird smile. She rolled her eyes but reached behind her back to grab the key. The ribbon seemed to melt away from it at her touch, without letting go of it's knot around her waist. She plucked the key free and turned it over in her hands so it caught the light. "Chess said to hang on to it- that it was the best weapon I've got."

"Chess sent you? And with the key? Oh, blimey hell- why didn't you mention all that before I strapped you to the chair? Would have saved me an awful lot of work." He said, slapping a hand to his forehead. She shot him a dark glance, causing him to cough awkwardly. "Right. Sorry… um, so you're the one supposed to rescue Alice? I don't know why but I pictured someone… taller… and much more… you know, man-like."

"This entire world belongs to my little sister and you don't think I can do anything to help her?" Margaret demanded incredulously. She tucked the key back into her belt. "I take serious offense to that."

"Sorry! Sorry! It's just… well, you don't look the part." He said before continuing. "I mean, you're not bad looking- very, er, pretty… it's just that's not what this sort of thing calls for, is it?"

"Right. Well, I'm leaving, just point me the way to the Red Castle."

"Oh, you're not seriously going to go through with this." He demanded.

"Who else will?"

"Ugh… already bossy and right all the time…" He muttered. "Look, if you stay here just long enough for me to cook up a plan, I'll take you wherever you want to go, alright?"

"Why?"

"Because I have my orders." He replied, rolling his eyes. She slapped him for his troubles. "Ow!"

"That's really noble of you." She said sarcastically. One thing she did like about Wonderland: decorum was definitely not in effect anymore. She turned away from him and stalked back down the hill to the table.

"So, I suppose I should whip up some tea?" Hatter called after her. She didn't answer, instead opting to throw a tea cup at him, which he ducked easily. She would have worried over the broken china if she hadn't just seen Marchie throw an entire half-dozen of them against a tree.

The night passed quietly for Margaret, mainly due to the fact she refused to talk to anyone, too on edge about her current company and the fact she wasn't moving, trying to find Alice.

"Sometimes, standing still is more progress than you'd think." Came Chess's voice as he appeared at her side. "I suggest making friends with Hatter- he's a valuable ally, once you get passed the madness and the emotions stuff."

"Emotions stuff." She repeated flatly.

"Pay attention, Margaret." Was the only answer before he vanished again.

"Insufferable." She grumbled just as Hatter appeared at the door of the teapot house. Behind him she could see Marchie twirling and skipping, tossing something that looks suspiciously mouse shaped into the air. She waited with bated breath but he caught it safely.

"He wouldn't hurt a friend." Hatter offered, catching her glance. She said nothing, just put her chin into her hands, resting her elbows on her knees. Hatter seemed discouraged. "Right. Still not talking to me. I see how it is. So, if you're not talking to me, who are you talking to in here?"

"Chess stopped by. Told me to make friends with you." She said with a shrug.

"Chess was here? And he didn't have anything to say to me?" Hatter spluttered in disbelief. The look of hurt on his face, touched Margaret and she sat up, studying him carefully.

"Did you need to talk to him about something? I swear he never really has anything to say worth hearing. He usually just shows up to pick on me." She tried to sooth. Hatter shot her a look.

"Look, if you're going to survive in Wonderland, you got to learn to take the bruises to the ego, yeah? Sometimes, humor and criticism is the best balm and preparation. So get used to us mad people talking in circles." He said quickly, sitting beside her on the steps that led upstairs to the bedrooms. She squirmed to the edge and shot him sideways glances. "I'm just warning you- we're the least of your worries."

"I think Chess said something like that." She whispered back.

"He's a wise cat." Hatter agreed with a nod. She allowed a smile to play across her lips.

"You know, Hatter, maybe I should forgive you for trying to kill me." She said.

"Maybe you should. No, you definitely should. I mean, just taking safety precautions, yeah? And it wont happen again. I mean, if you run into that problem with any of the hideaways, just show them the key and mention Chess. You'll avoid the brunt of it, believe me."

"Right. Well, any ideas yet?"

"Knew there was something I was forgetting." He jumped up and left the house again, turning at the door to look at her. "You coming then?"

"Yeah, alright." She said finally, standing and following him out. It's how she found herself moments later, laughing and twirling with Marchie and Dormouse.

* * *

><p>Syfy Hatter: That's it? That's your bloody fantastic upload?<p>

Author: Hey, cut me some slack. I'm overworked and underpaid.

Mad Hatter: I've been considering things that begin with the letter E. Excuses. Error. Epitome. Eventual.

Author: Just pull the dictionary out while you're at it.

Mad Hatter: Eerie. Eventual.

Author: Stoppit!

Disney Hatter: Clean Cup, Clean Cup. Move down, move down, move down!


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